


A Cold Shower

by liitlechopshopgirl



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Illya Kuryakin - Freeform, Napoleon Solo - Freeform, Other, Peril, The Man From U.N.C.L.E, chop shop girl, cowboy, gaby teller - Freeform, liitlechopshopgirl, little chop shop girl, red peril, the man from uncle - Freeform, the red peril, tmfu, tmfuncle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 10:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4873090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liitlechopshopgirl/pseuds/liitlechopshopgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The U.N.C.L.E trio is stranded in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Illya and Gaby seriously contemplate drowning Solo. Illya creates some heated feelings in Gaby. Humor and sexual tension ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Shower

The plane wasn't supposed to malfunction halfway across the Indian Ocean.

It wasn't, but it did.

Thankfully, Napoleon had detected the engine malfunction early, so the trio had time to send an emergency signal to Waverley and strap on their parachutes.

Gaby didn't want to admit that Illya holding her as they plummeted towards the blue expanse of the ocean had subdued her racing heart.

"Well, I always thought we'd be wet for each other, but not like this," Napoleon joked, his strong arms bare he tread water.

They had all stripped most of the clothing they wore to be more buoyant. Napoleon tried to argue that Gaby's underwear wasn't necessary, but Illya threatened to drown him.

"Who's idea was it to go to Malaysia anyway?" Gaby grumbled rhetorically, spitting a piece of salty hair out of her mouth. 

The waves lapped at the three of them gently, the water was temperature of bath water. Sweat was already starting to gather on Gaby's forehead.

"You know, it could be worse," Napoleon supplied.

"At least it's not the Arctic Ocean," Gaby offered, dully.

"Feel's like it with Peril here," Solo joked.

"Shut your mouth, Cowboy. I still can drown you."

Napoleon shook his head, his brown hair looking black as it was plastered wetly to his forehead."Anyways, as I was saying, it could be worse. We could be stranded in the Indian Ocean, and Gaby could have chosen to not wear her lace lingerie."

Gaby splashed some water in his face, making Napoleon splutter and cough.

Illya couldn't help the small smile that twitched at his lips.

Gaby jerked as something brushed her foot, and scooted towards Illya automatically.

It brushed her foot again, and with a little jump, she was in Illya's arms.

"What are you doing?" Illya asked, furrowing his brow as he held her and focused on keeping them afloat with his strong leg muscles.

"There's something in the-" 

Slowly, Gaby turned to look at Napoleon, who wore too innocent an expression for it not to be him.

"Arschloch," Gaby muttered, pushing out of Illya's arms.

They continued to tread water for a while longer before the unmistakable sound of a helicopter permeated the air.

As the helicopter neared, the spray of the water started to whip at the trio's faces.

Waverley peeked out from the passenger side.

He made a motion towards the rope ladder that dangled from the main hatch of the helicopter.

"You first, Cowboy."

Napoleon grabbed ahold of the ladder, effortlessly scaling it, his arm muscles pronounced as he lifted himself rung to rung.

It was then Gaby's turn.

She couldn't reach the ladder, so Illya had to boost her up.

Gaby tried not to think about the fact that Illya's hands were gripping her bare waist, and that her see-through lace clad bottom was currently in his face.

She had a harder time with the ladder, and wondered how Napoleon seemed to do it so effortlessly. Never the less, she had scaled it, and now sat dripping water onto the floor of the helicopter.

Illya popped up almost thirty seconds after her, pulling the ladder in after him.

Gaby ignored Illya's strong build, and the deep cut V of his hips, and the way the water glistened on his torso.

Waverley tossed back a few towels, and Illya made sure to wrap one around Gaby before taking one himself.

Gaby pulled the towel roughly across her shoulders to erase the tingling where Illya's hand had brushed her bare shoulder.

The helicopter began to fly towards their destination, Waverley briefing them over the headsets they had slipped on.

Finally, the coastline came into sight, and some time later, the copter approached the helipad.

"I have shower first," Gaby called, running a hand through her dark, knotted hair.

She was in need of a shower.

A very, very cold one.


End file.
